


Status Quo

by voxmyriad



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Bread, Expiration Date deleted scene, Gift Fic, M/M, One-Sided but pretty okay with it, Science Party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 10:40:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2425724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voxmyriad/pseuds/voxmyriad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An Expiration Date deleted scene: what happened after the bread went for Medic's throat?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Status Quo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [salainen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/salainen/gifts).



> ~~Late~~ birthday gift fic for salainen! You are awesome and you should feel awesome, have some Science Party.

"Y'all ready?"

"Ready!" Even after more than three days straight, the Medic is still as cheerful and enthusiastic as he had been at the very beginning, when the Engineer had invited him along to run some experiments on the teleporter. It brings a little smile to Engie's face as he reaches for a loaf of tumor-ridden bread, though the smell radiating off the thing is enough to wipe it away again. He tosses it gently into the humming teleportation field and watches as it puffs away.

Spy's bucket list of everyone's heart's desire had been a sweet gesture—strange, the things you learned about a man when he suddenly became truly aware of his own mortality—but Engie wouldn't have needed to go anywhere to achieve his own. Sure, they were all gonna die riddled with green tumors, but not before he'd had the distinct pleasure of watching Medic work, uninterrupted, for three whole days.

They've spent more time together in the last seventy-odd hours than in the past four years, and Engie has enjoyed every minute. No one else on the base can keep up with him when he really starts going off into technical language, but Medic never gets that glazed look or starts fidgeting. Half the time he's got plenty to add to the discussion, and even if he doesn't, Medic's always willing to listen. Almost makes Engie wish he'd done more to approach the doc before now, but at least they've had this time together.

Medic's sudden shriek pulls Engie out of his reverie and he looks up just in time to see the newly-teleported loaf of bread leap up and go right for Medic's throat.

"Aw, hell," he mutters, hurrying over and grabbing for it. It's a strong little thing, but Engie manages to get a finger hooked in the corner of its jaw. It chews the rubber right off the Gunslinger's glove as Engie fights to hold it while Medic dives for—

"That's just typical," he says, affectionately exasperated, as Medic returns, not with a weapon but with a specimen jar.

"In here, hurry! We cannot risk losing it!" Medic orders, holding the jar out with the lid at the ready. With some effort, Engie plunges the bread into the preserving liquid inside and almost gets his flesh-fingers caught in the lid as Medic slams it down with a triumphant cackle.

"Dammit, Doc, watch it! It nearly got a snack left behind in there," he says, examining his fingers to make sure they're all there. They are. He leaves off the examination and instead watches Medic watching the bread loaf, tapping at the glass and giggling as it tries to bite his fingers.

"Look at it, Engineer! What a specimen!"

"That specimen nearly took your head clean off," Engie points out as he joins Medic and tries to get him to hold still enough to see just how much damage the thing had done. "Will you quit wiggling around? It ain't going anywhere, now hold still and let me look at you. You're worse'n Scout sometimes, you know that?"

"I'm fine, just a scratch," Medic says impatiently, trying to wave him off and get back to the bread, now swirling in its jar as if caught in a whirlpool.

"Will you just let me take care of you for once, before I run out of time completely?" Engie snaps, and it's rare enough that he raises his voice that it actually gets Medic's attention. He opens his mouth to answer, then closes it and sits, unable to find a suitable response. "Thank you," Engie says, quieter this time, shooting for a neutral tone and missing the mark, he's pretty sure. He takes longer to look over the scratches than he needs to. "Well, no gushers, but we might as well heal these up while we're here. Hang on, I'll take care of it."

Medic is silent as Engie coats a finger in healing gel and smooths it over the marks on his neck. "What did you mean, 'take care of you for once'?" he asks when Engie turns away to wipe the excess on a rag.

Engie pretends not to hear. "So what's this mean, you think? That's sure not bread in there, least no bread I've ever heard of. Got any theories?" It's the right thing to say to distract Medic completely from contemplating when and why Engineer might want to take care of him, and as Medic rattles off several theories—some of them completely off-the-wall, some more plausible, a few even able to be tested—he sits back and lets the status quo settle back into place. No reason to stir things up, after all; he’s got all he needs already.


End file.
